Aunty's Home
				

He rings the doorbell of her home and waits.

His aunt was here, so he was here. She had phoned and invited him to drive
out and visit her. He accepted since she's his favorite 
aunt. After all, it was she who had introduced his mom to his dad. They say 
it was fate. She told him privately that, at the time, his father was her 
lover and she wanted to break it off gently knowing that his dad was also 
interested in her sister. He talks with his aunt frequently on the phone. She 
is always upfront with him, and they have no secrets from eachother.
She was like a best friend, a girlfriend, even,
on a platonic level. She told him to treat her like a woman and she would
always treat him like a man. He did tend to be nervous in her presence. She
looked almost exactly like his mom.

She greets him wearing a black tee-shirt that reaches just above her navel, a
pair of worn cutoffs with a black belt and a V-cut that hugs her behind, and 
a pair of black high heels. He eyes her up and down, his eyebrows rising.

She apparently notices. "You're looking at me the way you do sometimes, 
honey. What is it?" She walks into the living room, sits on a bar stool 
facing away from him. He enters, closes the door, walks behind her and waits.

"What is what?" he asks coyly.

"If something's on your mind, tell me," she insists. Her head turns and she 
looks at him expectantly.

"You look so foxy in that skimpy outfit," he teases.

"You're being fresh," she observes and turns her head away. "Aren't you?"

"If you weren't my aunt, I'd show you fresh," he laughs and reaches down to
goose her rear end.

He feels her stiffen and stand, turning to face him squarely. "Unh-huh", she
concludes. She lifts her tee-shirt front so that her boobs are completely
uncovered. He can't resist putting his hands on them, squeezing them.
The nipples rise in his palms. His head begins to dip forward and he feels
his mouth watering. "You're obviously interested in more than talking," she 
interrupts, looking at his groin. He realizes that he is obviously erect. 
His hands drop to his sides. "Admit it," she whispers.

He begins to reach for her again, then thinks better of it. "Auntie," he 
begs.

"Why can't you just forget that I'm your aunt and treat me like a woman?"

"You don't understand. I need ... some things. And I want ... some things ...
that I shouldn't ... from you. Can you understand that?" he pleads.

Silence follows. Then she sighs with resignation. "Don't speak to me again 
until you're ready to be honest," she replies softly yet firmly. "Completely.
I'll be out by the pool if you want to join me."

It takes him several minutes to cool down. Still confused, 

He enters the pool area. It is deserted. He doublechecks by walking around
the deck. She is there, in a black leather bikini, sitting on a chaise,
watching him. Her blonde hair is swept back to show dark roots. He begins
to approach until her palm rises to signal him to stop. Her other hand
tosses him a bottle of lotion. She gestures for him to sit in a chair
beside him. As he watches, she stands, spreading her feet defiantly,
closing her eyes and slowly squatting down. Her breasts strain at the
the tiny leather cups, and the patch of material between her legs
stretches then folds into her tightly. Her head goes back as she sits,
then her eyes open staring intently at him. She makes a fist, spreads her
legs and taps the base of her hand against her groin. Then she just waits.

It takes him a moment to realize that she is instructing him. He undoes his
belt, unzips his pants and shifts in the chair to slide his trousers and
shorts down to his ankles, then picks up the lotion and pours
some into his hand. Putting the bottle down, he grips his cock. The corners
of her lips rise slightly as she raises her hands to shake out her hair,
her nipples popping free over her top, Then she rolls sideways onto her 
belly, still watching him and twisting her ass toward him. A glint of light
reflects from one of her golden hoop earrings. His hand begins
pumping more earnestly. He sees the thong cutting between the cheeks of
her bottom. She raises herself to crawl a few inches, her breasts dangling
loosely, nipples hard. The she stands again and hooks her thumbs into the
waist of her panties, crouching slightly to push them down to reveal a
small dark triangle of fur pointing down to her sex. She turns her back to
him and wiggles her hips seductively, bending and arching her back to tense
her buttocks tantalizingly. Then she doubles over pushing the panties to
her feet and steps out of them. Her hands reach behind her to undo the
bikini strap and she shucks it off, dropping it. She turns and her eyes
stab him like a jolt of electricity, her lips are pursed and her hands fall
to her thighs then slide up between her legs.

"Unnnnnhhhh", she moans deeply as her fingers search within the lips of
her cunt. She drops down onto her seat and raises her knees up furiously
frigging herself to the rhythm of his own hand. Her fingers pull her pussy
apart, and she raises her hips to show him her smooth bottom hole, too.
She sits up and her breathing is rapid as her breasts dance and jiggle.
She raises a hand and slaps herself directly over her clitoris. Smack!
And again. Smack! Her eyes look at him beseechingly. He can't take it
anymore, the knob of his penis swells and he erupts onto the deck and his
hand. She looks wide-eyed, as her fingers dive deep up inside her, then
her eyes close and tremors wrack her body. "AggghhhhAAAAGGGGHHHHAWWWWNNH!"
she wails as her body convulses with each orgasmic peak.

After a minute or two, she rouses and looks at him again. She gets to her
feet and retreives the bikini parts. Slowly, she walks by him. As his
hand leaves his dick to reach for her, she stops. "Do you have something
to say?" she asks. He is speechless. She raises a finger and wags it at
him. "Tut, tut, tut," she scolds. "Why don't you put your stuff in the guest
room and clean up in the bath?" She continues walking toward the house.
Shaking his head, confused, he stands and pulls his pants up wondering what
was in his own mind.



After running hot water in the tub, he undresses and dons a towel around
his waist. First, a shave, he thinks. He is almost finished when
she enters behind him. In the mirror, he sees her open the top of a robe
to reveal her bare breasts. She is looking over his shoulder at his
reflection, her eyes cast down to the rising staff poking his towel out
in front. A smile forms on her lips and he feels the towel undoing itself
until it falls away. He puts the razor down and bends to rinse his face,
then straightens and faces the mirror. She is gone! He hears a splash and
turns.

She stands naked, one foot in the tub, the other on tiptoe. His glance is
drawn to the tensed calve, the sleek thigh, her hips cocked, buns glistening
with sweat, half turned to look back at him, one breast exposed in profile,
her hand holding a sponge to the nipple almost imperceptibly rubbing it up
and down, her mouth curled into an O, eyes looking directly into his, hair
pinned loosely behind her head to show one large, gold ring dangling from
her ear. This woman is incredible, the object of his most secret desires.
She gently settles down, reclining sensuously into the hot water, then 
slowly crooks a finger to have him approach. He looks down at her nude
body, her breasts floating, nipples raised like masts, knees bent,
thighs opened wide inviting his gaze to the deep shadow between. 

"Let me," she offers.

He feels her moist hand enclose his erection, slipping from the base to the 
tip and back again, up and down, again and again, quickening each stroke 
until his nuts contract and he feels the explosion tear through his belly. 
Thick globs of milk spurt over her, raining on her chest, arms, neck and 
face, running down to settle into the pool of water surrounding her. When
he is spent, the ecstasy subsiding, her hand releases him and she draws it
to her lips, tongue darting out to taste his semen, then hungrily licking
it from her hand, and her arms. She raises her tits to her mouth and cleans 
them, then pauses for long moments holding him only with her eyes. 

With a slight nod, she looks away, retrieves the soap and begins washing.
Her glance doesn't return, so he backs off. "Tut-tut", he hears,
and sees her long legs stretch along the sides of the tub. He reaches between
them and feels her mound. "Uhmmmm," she sighs sliding down into his grasp.
His fingers work gently, then furiously over her lips and clit. He inserts
one, two, then three and finger fucks her ruthlessly. Her hands grip the
sides of the tub as she throws her head back and moans uncontrollably. Every
muscle in her body tenses again and again, her hips bucking, the water 
splashing everywhere.

After her writhing subsides, he rinses his hand in the water and straightens.
She slowly rolls over onto her belly so only her head, bottom and feet are
sticking up out of the water. Her hips are gently moving up and down. She
reaches back as if to wash herself and slides her hand over one cheek, her 
fingers trailing a line
in the cleavage down between her legs, pushing in between her lips, then up
gently prodding her rosebud, and again. She turns her face to him and opens
her mouth a bit, pursing her lips, the tip of her tongue raised. Her eyebrows
lift. She is looking at his penis hardening again. He wants her in every way.
Then fear grips him and he retrieves his towel, wrapping it around himself.
He heads for the guest room and collapses to the bed for a nap.


In the evening, she is gone. There is a note on the coffee table. He picks
it up on the way out, open the front door and reads, almost hearing her 
voice, "Honey, I love you. I hope what I did helped. You can trust me to keep 
our new secrets from now on."

He goes out the front door, closing it behind him knowing that he is going
to call her and exactly what he is going to say, and what he is not going to
this woman.